


shatter me with your gentleness

by giidas



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Established Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Unhappy Ending, angst no fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giidas/pseuds/giidas
Summary: They’ve planned their route, but they got lost, and their water ran out this morning.Magnus knows they’re at least two days away from another water source.He licks his dry lips, and walks.





	shatter me with your gentleness

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy story. Please mind the tags. M rated for the darker themes.

_ Day 74 _

Alec is not looking at him, opening and closing the window with the button on his door. Magnus checks his rearview mirror, sees Isabelle’s head lolling to the side. She had the last watch, didn’t get much sleep. Jace is drumming his fingers on his thigh.

Magnus would do anything for some music right about now, but radio stations stopped broadcasting more than a month ago.

Networks were the first to go, TVs becoming useless wall accessories. Then internet followed, in waves, Magnus assumes because of how the virus spread across the country. Radio stations were the ones that stuck around the longest, first manned by the original crews and employees, then volunteers, then random people who found the recording studios.

Then even those were lost.

The last thing they ever heard was a notice about the frequency at which the government would be periodically broadcasting, informing the survivors about safe havens.

They haven’t heard one in over a week.

“Stop,” Alec says suddenly, leaning forward in his seat. Magnus doesn’t hesitate, slams his foot on the break.

Alec’s seatbelt is off and before Magnus knows what’s happening, Alec is jumping out of the car.

“Alec!” Isabelle shouts after him, opening her own door, looking around frantically, checking for any movement. Magnus joins her, machete at the ready, his back to hers, looking around and slowly following to where Alec is now crouching. Jace is standing by the car, gun in hand.

“Alec, what the fuck,” Isabelle hisses at him, not letting her eyes leave their surroundings.

Alec gets up and when he steps to the side, there is a small boy behind him, dirty and covered in blood, eyes big and vacant. Magnus swallows the bile he feels rising in his throat.

“He’s coming with us,” Alec says, not leaving it up for debate.

_ Day 125 _

They’ve planned their route beforehand as well as they could, using the different maps they found at ransacked gas stations and in abandoned cars. They take turns carrying the boy, his small feet not made for walking such long distances.

Magnus keeps his eyes on the train tracks ahead of him, knows Jace is checking their left and Isabelle their right, Alec and the boy walking between the two of them.

The only sounds he can hear are their shoes hitting the gravel and their heavy breathing.

Magnus feels sweat run down his back, seeping into his disgusting t-shirt.

They’ve planned their route, but they got lost, and their water ran out this morning.

Magnus knows they’re at least two days away from another water source.

He licks his dry lips and walks.

_ Day 176 _

Magnus slams his fist into the plastic front of the vending machine, hissing through his gritted teeth.

The vending machine stays empty. Magnus lets his forehead thud against the Coca Cola logo, tries to keep the tears of frustration and dread from spilling from his eyes.

“Found anything?” Isabelle calls out from somewhere behind him.

Magnus runs his hand down his face, takes a deep breath in through his nose, breaths out slowly through his mouth.

“No, nothing,” he calls back, “you?”

“Some fresh clothes, a lot of cheap sunglasses, paper party hats, and then a ton of absolutely useless shit,” she replies, leaning her back against the side of the vending machine, sliding down until her butt hits the floor.

“Fuck,” Magnus says. The boy needs food. They _ all _ need food.

“Yeah,” Isabelle agrees, head against her knees. Her daggers are still in their thigh holsters, one on each leg. Magnus turns around, sits on the sticky floor as well.

“What are we gonna do,” Isabelle asks

“We get Jace and Alec and the boy and keep walking,” he tells her. There’s nothing else they can do. They can’t stop, can’t spend the night in an area that was this heavily populated. They’re only on the very outskirts of Atlanta but they’ve already seen clear signs of the presence of the Infected.

It’s when Isabelle turns to him, about to ask a question, when they hear the first screams.

_ Day 238 _

Magnus watches Alec cutting another hole in his belt. His pants kept sliding down his hips, making him grunt in annoyance all day today.

He’s so skinny now, Magnus thinks as he looks at him. Most of his muscles are gone, his shoulders bony, his ribs visible when he takes off his t-shirt.

There’s a scar on his cheek, an angry looking jagged thing. Another one on his side, Magnus knows, even though it’s covered by clothes at the moment. Ever present scattering of bruises, all over. Bloody blisters on his feet.

Magnus still loves him so much it makes him sick sometimes.

Alec looks at him then, searching his expression. He reaches out a hand.

“Want me to do yours as well?”

Magnus nods, takes off his belt.

Isabelle is on watch, having volunteered for the first one of the night, so it’s just the two of them.

Their fingers brush together when Magnus hands the belt over to Alec.

Magnus thinks about the ring on a chain around his neck.

_ Day 312 _

Isabelle is skipping down the road ahead of them, whistling a happy tune. There’s no hair flying behind her, no sundress dancing around her legs. 

She had him chop her hair off so long ago Magnus barely remembers what she looked like with her hair long. _ It’s impractical _ , she said, _ please Magnus, I can’t ask Alec. _

And so Magnus took one of her daggers and chopped and chopped and chopped.

They found scissors some time later, and shaving gel and even a straight razor. They’ve had to do without the shaving gel for a while now. The old fashioned razor Magnus kept, carries it in his pocket. Can’t hurt to have an extra weapon.

Magnus adjusts the straps of his backpack. He never would have believed what his true essentials would be, if someone told him before all this started. Never would have believed what the only things he cannot live without are, the items he lets weigh him down while he walks.

He looks at Alec and thinks he’d survive without even that, if it meant keeping him by his side.

Alec, who has a slight spring in his step, too.

They caught a broadcast yesterday evening, first one after months of silence. Survivors. Safe haven. Antelope Island, Utah.

Magnus thinks fondly back to the time when he could just Google Maps things, get into a car and drive.

They’ve been staying by Lake Sumner for the last couple of weeks, taking advantage of the easy access to water and fish.

They haven’t seen another human in months.

By Alec’s rough estimate, they should reach Antelope Island in five weeks.

If they walk for 8 hours a day, if they don’t get lost, if they don’t have to deviate from the planned route. If, if, if.

He knew they couldn’t stay by the lake forever, he did, but he wishes they could-- he doesn’t know. 

It feels like they’re chasing a dream that’s slipping through their fingers.

He blinks, looks at Isabelle and then Alec, reminds himself that the three of them are alive. That they have to keep going.

He tries not to think about the gun strapped to Alec’s thigh, about the too big leather jacket Isabelle is wearing.

_ Day 340 _

“Fuck!” Alec shouts, and Magnus is instantly awake, blade in his hand, looking around for a threat. He sees Isabelle jumping to her feet, doing the same.

“Fuck,” Alec repeats, voice smaller, wet with tears.

“Alec?” Isabelle asks, approaching him. He holds out a hand, stopping her from touching him. He turns the volume up on their small portable radio.

“_ -you’re hearing this, the safe haven at Antelope Island has been compromised. Approach the area at your own risk. This is an automated recording. If you’re hearing this, the safe haven at Antelope Island has been compromised. Approach at your own risk. This is an automat- _”

The voice drones on, and Magnus allows his knees to buckle.

They’re a week, nine days at most away from Antelope Island.

He hears Isabelle muffle a sob.

Alec turns the radio off.

_ Day 375 _

Magnus sits down heavily on the porch steps, stretching his aching leg. He looks at the picturesque countryside, at the breeze playing with the long grass. He thinks he even hears a couple of birds chirp.

There are no farm animals, and they had to clean two decomposing bodies from the main bedroom. A lot of people decided to go that way, Magnus knows. This was not the first time they had to do this.

They buried them, aired the house for days.

They sleep in the living area, furniture moved to the walls, two mattresses placed in one corner. They don’t need three. One of them is always awake, keeping watch.

He hears the door creak, doesn’t turn around.

Alec sits next to him, placing a jug of water, an old but clean t-shirt cut into strips and a disinfectant they found in the bathroom next to his leg.

“Want me to do it?” he asks.

Magnus thinks about the wound, how it makes his stomach turn every time he has to look at it.

“Please,” he says, and rolls his shorts up carefully, revealing the blood stained cloth that’s secured around his thigh.

He watches Alec’s carefully scrubbed clean hands as they undo the safety pin that holds everything together. Alec pours some water on the cloth, over the spot where it got stuck to the wound. He’s gentle when he peels the makeshift bandage off, gentle when he cleans the wound, gentle when he re-dresses it once more.

Alec is always gentle with him, like he’s scared Magnus is going to fall apart, shatter into a million small pieces and _ disappear _ if Alec presses his fingers into his skin to hard.

Magnus watches him, sees the chain on the back of his neck, knows the precise spot a ring rests against his chest.

_ Day 431 _

Isabelle shoulders the door open, arms filled with logs, Alec right on her heels.

There’s no snow outside yet, but they both swore up and down that they can smell it in the air, that it’s going to snow soon, they’re sure.

They’ve been gathering wood all day, taking turns, always leaving the house in pairs. There was already quite a lot of wood lining one side of the farm, but they didn’t want to risk running out before the winter is over.

Magnus turns back to the fireplace and adjusts the smouldering logs, hoping the fire will catch properly soon. The coldness of the farm is seeping into his bones and his thigh aches from it.

He thinks about the dozens of boxes of potatoes, the jars upon jars of tomato sauce they cooked, the salted and dried fish and _ more _. They have food, hopefully enough of it to survive the winter.

The farm was well stocked with canned and pickled and dried food when they arrived. The crops were spread all around, beyond the boundaries of their own little designated places, and while they have barely any knowledge when it comes to farming, they tried their best to take care of the crops and the earth so that they might have a chance of growing something next year as well.

Next year, Magnus almost chuckles to himself.

Planning is not something they dared to do in a while.

_ Day 503 _

Manus is running, blade in hand, backpack slamming against his body with each step. 

They knew how risky this was, but they had no other option.

He thinks about their plan, about the different escape routes they all memorized, about the meeting points they established in case they got separated.

Magnus hears frantic footsteps behind himself, bodies hitting the wall, unable to make the sharp turn.

There’s so many of them, Magnus thinks, hoping his leg won’t give out on him.

He thinks about Isabelle, about Alec, and runs for his life.

_ Day 592 _

Magnus keeps his eyes on the tracks, ears focused on the second set of footsteps behind him.

Alec’s been growing weaker and weaker every day, his breathing laboured, face pale.

He hears him stumble, feels him catch himself on Magnus’ backpack. He turns around, offering his arm for support.

Alec shakes his head and leans his forehead against Magnus’ chest, one hand clutching at his t-shirt.

“Okay?” Magnus asks. 

He knows Alec isn’t okay, they _ both _ know.

Alec nods anyway.

Magnus can taste the bitterness of the lie.

_ Day 610 _

Magnus takes the chain off his neck, does the same for Alec. He carefully removes each ring from its chain, placing them in Alec’s hand and letting the chains fall between them.

They’re sitting on an old sofa in a house they had to hole up in three days ago, when Alec became too weak to walk.

His Alec, who’s watching him, eyes alert.

Magnus takes Alec’s ring from his hand and carefully slides it back in its rightful place. He can feel his eyes watering when Alec does the same for him.

“Are you sure?” he checks, searching Alec’s face.

“Yes,” Alec says, voice clear for the first time in days. Magnus sees him look around, eyes sliding over the leather jacket they’ve been carrying around with them, over the daggers strapped to Magnus’ backpack which lies abandoned in a corner of the room.

Magnus checks each of the guns with practiced fingers, gives one to Alec.

They’re facing each other, tears staining their cheeks. Magnus does his best to smile through them, sees Alec try to do the same.

“I love you, Alexander.”

“I love you, Magnus.”

Magnus kisses his husband and counts back from three.


End file.
